Jacob watched the world below him unfold. Standing on the roof top of one of the many dilapidated buildings at 23rd Avery. The kids were playing football and would probably keep at it until the sky turned a deep red.
He watched with a ting of sadness, playing statistics in his head- only 2 out of every 7 of those kids would make it to college; most of them would have the misfortune of being jailed at least once; and thanks to the gang bangers, a few of them might not even live to celebrate their 30th birthday.
He stood, oblivious to the shouting going on below. His neighbourhood was dying, both metaphorically and literally. The violence was at a whole new peak, the buildings were collapsing, even the tree leaves had turned a weary brown.
But, he smiled. It was still his neighbourhood. Plastered on every corner were memories he had created; this “mess”, was all he had ever known. And, despite many unfavourable names it’s been called by outsiders, for him, it was simply “home”.
word count: 175. This story Is in response to flash fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge, hosted by Priceless Joy, where each week we are provided with an image and are to write a 75-175 word story surrounding it. Thank you for this week’s photo @Grant-sud